For lack of the close observation which a training in representation would supply, the average man has no clear images of his own with which to read or think. Consequently the stimuli which cause a satisfactory reaction in his brain must be intense. His music must be brassband music, his color thrill can come only from a gorgeous sunset or the Berkshires in October. Even his news must be served up by yellow journals in flaring headlines and dramatic pictures. He can be reached only by colored posters and advertising signs ten cubits high. His recreations even must be highly artificial. At the coast the sweep of sand and sea, the dim horizon and the grace of the breaking wave mean so little to him that he must plant on the crest of the beach his merry-goround, his roller-coaster, and all the other noisy and vulgar attractions a perverted ingenuity can invent. The majesty of Julius Cæsar and King Henry as they walk through Shakespeare's printed pages, and the calm beauty of the old king who wrote the Shepherd Psalm, are lost on the man whose power of imagination is atrophied. He must have, instead, the noise and the glitter, the reality and vulgarity of vaudeville.

The importance of clear-cut, three-dimensioned images for the imagination and the reason to use can scarcely be over-estimated. The minister who reads the matchless words of the Bible in droning fashion so reads because he sees nothing. Booth, Jefferson, any man with power of imagination could not read that way, The man who fails in business or in the social world fails largely for lack of "grasp," as we say, the power to image and forecast conditions, to see through to the other side of the problem, to hold the totality clearly in his mind and read it through and through. As Dean Shailer once said, "The value of drawing in all departments of science, not only as a language but as a discipline of the mind, can hardly be over-estimated. Many students entering Harvard University can think in one dimension, some few in two dimensions, but those who can think in three dimensions are exceedingly rare." Every department of human activity offers unlimited opportunity to men of vision.

But in the second place the study of graphic art as pursued in the schools develops the power of expression. It is unnecessary to review in detail the value of this power in almost every human occupation.

In a conference at Harvard University on the relation of the high school to the college in 1903, President Eliot said: "I have recently examined all the courses offered by the university, and I find but one (the course in theology) in which a knowledge of drawing would not

be of immediate value (and even there I think it might help in some cases!). The power to draw is greatly needed in nearly all the courses and absolutely indispensable in some of them. A very large proportion of studies now train the memory, a very small proportion train the power to see straight and do straight, which is the basis of industrial skill."

Whether a carpenter remain a carpenter or become a foreman or contractor depends largely upon his power to read a working drawing. Whether a machinist remain a machinist or become a master, depends largely upon his power to put down with a pencil his ideas of mechanical construction. Whether a printer remain a printer or become a designer of fine printing depends largely upon his power to lay out a job with his pencil. The advancement of anyone in his profession,-of the designer, the illustrator, the architect, the house-furnisher, the landscapegardener, not less than the painter and the sculptor, depends primarily on this power of graphic representation by means of line and color.

But aside from this fact, there is in the mere power to express oneself grapically a source of legitimate pleasure not to be despised. The craving for self-expression is universal and insistent. The love of selfexpression graphically, lies at the basis of amateur photography. The pleasure which thousands of people derive from the camera is immense. Only one other class of people who enjoy nature, get greater pleasure from making pictures, namely, those who can make them with the pencil and brush, who can record what they wish to remember without recording the confusing details which encumber it. Representation is to the artist re-creation, and is accompanied with a passionate pleasure such as only those can appreciate who have had the experience.

In the third place, the practice of graphic art develops the power of appreciation. We are the children of the race intellectually and spiritually as well as physically. The world is full of good people who in the realm of the arts are bovine. They cannot tell one tune from another. They do not know Turner from a Teniers, or a Botticelli from a Burne-Jones. They pass and repass the far-descended venerable ornament exquisitely cut upon the porch of a colonial house, and know nothing of its presence, much less of its eventful history. They sit on Sunday in a church where the sacred symbols, first scratched with trembling hands on martyrs' graves, blaze forth their messages from glowing windows, or whisper them from font and table and altar; but having eyes they see not, and having ears they hear not. The great

world of art is to them a nonentity. A Latin grammar, a Greek text, an algebra, a geometry, a bank book, a mill sheet, a financial report, or perchance a flock of hens, is the measure of their horizon and the arc of their sky. A man submerged in business, entombed in a shop, buried in a book is an intellectual and spiritual bankrupt.

The child never attains manhood until he secures the keys to the great treasure-house of literature, music, architecture, sculpture, painting, and the other arts, which record the experience, the aspirations and the ideals of the brightest and best of those who have gone before. The work of these men is another source of pleasure and of satisfaction which the man who would live the larger and more abundant life cannot ignore. Every attempt to represent a blade of grass, a leaf, or a flower, every attempt to catch the movement or gesture of any living thing, prepares the mind, as nothing else can, for the appreciation of the work of Dürer and Landseer, of Rosa Bonheur and William Hamilton Gibson. Every attempt to represent a tree or the sky, a body of water or the sweep of hills, will enhance one's appreciation of Claude and Turner, of Corot, Mesdag, and Fritz Taulow. Every attempt at illustration and pictorial composition will open the eyes to the almost marvelous skill of the old Italian masters, of Millet, Burne-Jones, and Whistler. Every attempt to put down the color of a flower, of a shell, of a spray of autumn fruit, of a spring landscape, of a moonlight night, will enhance one's enjoyment not only of the work of the Venetians, but of the rug-makers of the orient, of the potters of China and western Europe, of the great jewelers from the days of the Etruscans to the present moment, and of all those who have wrought in fabrics with the loom or the needle. All this appreciation of the work of men will send the happy spirit to nature again with keener eyes. The man of the anointed eye will see her as the artists and poets have always seen her, so beautiful that the shadow of a mountain daisy on a stone will inspire a poem; the glint of light on rind or fur or feather, inspire a picture; and the gloom of a calm night, inspire a symphony.

And lastly the influence of graphic art in public education is important because by means of it, when our pedagogical machinery is perfected, we shall be enabled to discover every particle of talent possessed by the children under our charge, and to develop it for the good of all.

The heart of man is never satisfied. We shall go on demanding illustrated books and papers, paintings to hang upon our walls, pictures

out of doors spread before our eyes, beautiful garments and jewels, beautiful temples, civic buildings and homes; and the men and women who will produce all these in each generation are among the boys and girls in the public schools of the preceding generation. The character of the art which men and women produce depends very largely upon the amount of training they have received, and the extent to which they have been made familiar with what genius has done before them. We cannot too early discover the precious vital elements of genius in children and begin the salutary discipline which shall enable them to carry the artistic triumphs of the race to yet higher levels.

THE PLACE OF MANUAL TRAINING IN THE

N°

ELEMENTARY SCHOOL.

EDWIN L. TAYLOR.

O small part of the evolution of these latter days is the evolution of educational thought. As the product of this we have what we call "The New Education." Just what this "new education" is, it is difficult to define. However, in spite of absurdities and enormities that may parade beneath its banners, its manifest mission is simply the conforming of methods of education to the law of "the eternal fitness of things." The "new education" does not consist in the high handed ruling out of time-honored educational practices, or the deposing of old and essential subjects. It only seeks to recognize that a new epoch in human society demands a corresponding evolution in the school, and would modify the old, and, if need be, introduce the new that the curriculum may conform to present day conditions. Resulting from this. new attitude of educational thought, we find, pervading the school of today, a subtle, potent principle that has radically changed the atmosphere of elementary education. One of the ways, in which this principle finds outward and visible expression, is a quaintly varied array of activities which, owing to the paucity of our English language have been christened manual training. This is a most unfortunate name because it is so well adapted to mislead the uninitiated "general public." What the school world knows as manual training is not manual training, the training of the hand, as the popular conception defines it, but mental training through experiences gained by manual activity.

To carefully define and defend, upon broad social and educational premises the place of this new element in the elementary school shall be the purpose of this consideration.

Obviously at the outset it will be needful to clearly state these basic premises. These are also products of the revised educational thought, the most fundamental of which is that conception that recognizes the school as an institution of society, and that primarily in educating it is not the needs of the individual but of society that must receive attention. This theory contends that the highest good of the indivual can only be served in the light of his social environment, and discovers that "the bread and butter aim," "knowledge for knowledge's sake", "general culture", "harmonious development", "moral character",-in fact, that all